Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban
The Dark-Hunters (78 page)
Acheron took a drink of his champagne. “So, what are you going to do with your short life?”
Kyrian watched Amanda grab three-year-old Niklos up and dance with him. She was going to make a wonderful mother someday. “I’m going to live it. Happily.”
Nick had his hands in his pants pockets. “Guess I have to start looking for another Dark-Hunter to serve…” He looked meaningfully at Talon.
“Like hell, Gator bait, don’t cast those eyes at me. I don’t have Kyrian’s patience. Besides, there’s only enough room in my cabin for me and my computer.”
“Don’t worry,” Ash assured Nick. “I’ll find you someone to serve.”
Nick looked horrified. “Please don’t do me any favors. I have visions of you sending me up to Alaska to serve Zarek’s psycho ass.”
Kyrian laughed until Amanda rejoined them with a severe frown on her face.
“What is it, baby?” he asked.
“There’s, um … a, um…”
The men looked at her expectantly.
“Yes?” Kyrian prompted.
“There’s a fleet of UPS trucks in the driveway.”
The men exchanged puzzled looks before they all headed out to the front of the house where seven UPS trucks were lined up.
One of the drivers approached Kyrian. “Hi,” he said in greeting. “I’m looking for a Mr. K. Hunter.”
“That would be me,” Kyrian said.
“Good. Any idea where you want this stuff?”
“What is all this stuff?”
The driver handed him a clipboard with the names of the people who had sent the items. “Wulf Tryggvason, Zoe, Blade Fitzwalter, Diana Porter, Cael, Brax, Samia, Arien, Kyros, Rogue, Kell, Dragon, Simon, Xander St. James, Alexei Nikolov, Badon Fitzgilbert…” On and on the Dark-Hunter names went.
“You know, Kyrian,” Acheron said with a laugh, “you’re going to have to buy a bigger house.”
“Yeah,” Talon said, “but just wait until you have kids. I’ll bet you get twice as much as this.”
They all burst out laughing.
Amanda stepped into Kyrian’s embrace and looked up at him. “I think your Dark-Hunter cohorts are going to miss you. You sure you have no regrets?”
Kyrian kissed her lightly on the cheek. “None whatsoever. You?”
“Never.”
Acheron watched as the two newlyweds headed into the house arm in arm.
“Wanna bet where they’re going?” Talon asked.
Ash laughed. “No bet. I already know.” He turned to the driver and told him to leave the gifts in the living room. “I think my wedding gift will be to hire an unpacking crew in the morning.”
Nick laughed. “Let me go show them where to stack it so Kyrian doesn’t get ticked.”
“I’ll help,” Talon said.
Ash watched Nick run ahead of the drivers with Talon following at a much more conservative pace. He listened to the darkness and to the sounds of the night that he knew so well. He felt a slight stirring behind him.
It was a presence he knew even more intimately than the night.
He drained the last of his champagne. “What are you doing here, Artie? I wasn’t aware you had an invitation.”
A long, gracefully tapered hand touched his shoulder. Even through the tuxedo, he could feel the warmth of her as she caressed him. Unearthly tall and statuesque, she moved like a sleek, sensuous wind. Soft. Elegant.
And capable of total destruction when stirred too vigorously.
“I’m a goddess,” she spoke, her Greek accent smooth and cultured. “I don’t need an invitation.”
Acheron turned his head to see Artemis standing to his left. Her rich light auburn hair glowed in the moonlight and her iridescent green eyes sparkled.
“I hope you’ve come to wish them well,” he said.
She glanced askance at him as she toyed idly with his newly dyed black hair. A sly smile curved her perfect lips. “I do. But the real question is, do you?”
Ash stiffened at the implication. “What kind of question is that? You know I do.”
“Just checking to make sure that little green-eyed monster wasn’t making you have second thoughts.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “The only green-eyed monster I know is you.”
She sucked her breath in sharply at his words, but her smile never wavered. “Oooo,” she crooned in a sexually charged tone. “Acheron is getting nasty in his old age.” She leaned her chin to rest on his shoulder as she stroked his jaw with a well-manicured fingernail. “It’s a good thing I like you, otherwise you’d be baked bread.”
He sighed. “Yeah, lucky me. By the way, the correct term is ‘toast.’”
Artemis could never keep track of colloquial slang, yet she seemed to enjoy using it. Or misusing it, anyway. There were times he suspected she did it on purpose just to see if he would dare to correct her.
“Mmmm,” she said, playfully wrapping her arms around his waist. “I like it when you get all feisty.”
Acheron stepped away from her. “So who are you transferring to New Orleans to take over Kyrian’s spot?”
She licked her lips impishly and mischief glowed in her eyes. But before she could answer, Julian approached them.
“Little Cousin Artemis,” he said in greeting.
“Julian of Macedon,” she said coldly. “Didn’t know you were here.”
“Same.”
“Well,” Acheron said. “Nice to know no introductions are needed.”
Artemis passed a threatening glare to Julian. “Yes, well, I wish I could stay, but I can’t.”
Before she vanished, she leaned forward and whispered the answer in Acheron’s ear.
He went cold with the news as she twinkled into mist.
There were times when Artemis could be the biggest bitch on the planet.
Julian cocked a brow at him. “What did she say?”
“Nothing.” The last thing Acheron wanted was to drop that bomb on Julian and Kyrian. And he certainly wasn’t going to do it in the middle of a wedding.
He turned to Julian. “So, General, you have your best friend back. I’ll wager the two of you are going to get into some serious trouble.”
Julian laughed. “Not likely.”
Somehow Acheron had a hard time believing that. Just as he had a hard time believing that Artemis would leave well enough alone.
EPILOGUE
Amanda brushed Kyrian’s hair back from his face as she kissed his lips. Her wedding dress and his tuxedo were piled in a heap on the floor while they were tangled in the silk bedsheets.
“We’re being awfully rude, aren’t we?” she asked.
Kyrian smiled. “Yeah, but I like rudeness.”
She laughed. Then he kissed her and she forgot everything else in the world.
“So, tell me,” he asked as he nibbled below her ear with his human teeth. “Do you miss being an accountant?”
“Not at all. You?”
“I never was an accountant.”
She nipped his nose. “You know what I mean. Do you miss being a Dark-Hunter?”
He licked her ear, sending chills over her. “At times, yes. But I’d rather have you.”
“Do you really mean that?”
He pulled back to look into her eyes. “With every piece of my heart and soul.”
“Good,” she whispered, kissing him. “Because now that you’re mortal again, the baby and I need you to be careful.”
Kyrian froze. “What?”
She smiled down at him. “We’re pregnant, Mr. Hunter. About six weeks along.”
Kyrian kissed her deeply and held her close in his arms. “That, Mrs. Hunter, is the best news I’ve ever heard.”
Amanda cupped his face in her hands. “I love you, Kyrian of Thrace. And I never want to lose you.”
“I love you, Amanda Devereaux-Hunter, and I swear to you, you never will.”
Amanda kissed him again, knowing for the first time in her life that there really was such a thing as happily ever after. Even if it did mean marrying a vampire.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
NIGHT PLEASURES
Copyright © 2002 by Sherrilyn Kenyon.
Excerpt from
Night Embrace
copyright © 2003 by Sherrilyn Kenyon.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
ISBN: 0-312-97998-3
EAN: 80312-97998-0
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / October 2002
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
eISBN 9781429906104
First eBook edition: February 2014
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NIGHT EMBRACE
SHERRILYN KENYON
Contents
For my fans who support me and who have given me untold smiles at conferences and booksignings and when I read my e-mails and letters.
To the RBL Romantica and DH posters whose presence is always a source of warmth.
For my family and friends who make my life worthwhile. And for my Kim and Nancy who believe in me and who are willing to give me the opportunity to introduce the world to the people who live in my heart and mind.
Thank you all! I hope each of you has all the blessings and riches you deserve. Hugs!
Prologue
A.D
. 558,
GLIONNAN
The roaring village fires burned high into the night, licking at the dark sky like serpents twining through black velvet. Smoke wafted through the misty darkness, pungent with the scent of death and vengeance.
The sight and smell should bring joy to Talon.
It didn’t.
Nothing would ever bring joy to him again.
Nothing.
The bitter agony that welled inside him was crippling. Debilitating. It was more than even he could bear and that thought was almost enough to make him laugh …
Or curse.
Aye, he cursed from the excruciating weight of his pain.
One by one, he had lost every human being on earth who had ever meant anything to him.
All of them.
At age seven, he’d been orphaned and left the heavy responsibility of caring for his baby sister. With nowhere to go and unable to provide for the infant himself, he had returned to the clan that had once been led by his mother.
A clan that had banished both his parents before his birth.
His uncle had been in his first year as king when Talon had forced his way into his hall. The king had grudgingly accepted him and Ceara, but his clan never had.
Not until Talon had forced them to.
They might not have respected his parentage, but Talon had made them respect his sword arm and temper. Respect his willingness to maim or slay any and all who insulted him.
By the time he’d entered manhood, no one dared to mock his birth or impugn his mother’s memory or honor.
He had risen through the ranks of warriors and learned all he could about weapons, fighting, and leadership.
In the end, he had been unanimously voted his uncle’s successor by the very people who had once mocked him.
As the heir, Talon had stood by his uncle’s right side, protecting him relentlessly until an enemy ambush had caught them off guard.
Wounded and in physical agony, Talon had held his uncle in his arms while Idiag died from his injuries.
“Guard my wife and Ceara, boy,” his uncle had whispered before his death. “Don’t make me regret taking you in.”
Talon had promised. But only a few months after that, he’d found his aunt raped and murdered by their enemies. Her body desecrated and left for the animals to prey upon.
Less than a full year later, he’d cradled his precious wife, Nynia, to his chest as she, too, drew her last breath and left him all alone, forever bereft of her gentle, soothing touch.
She had been his world.
His heart.
His soul.
Without her, he had no longer wished to live.
His spirit as broken as his heart, he had placed their stillborn son into her lifeless arms and buried the two of them together by the loch where he and Nynia had played as children.
Then, he’d done as he had been taught by his mother and uncle.
He had survived to lead his clan.
Laying aside his grief as best he could, he had lived only for the clan’s welfare.
As a chieftain, he had spilled enough blood to fill the raging sea and had taken countless wounds on his own flesh for his people. He had led his clan to glory against all the mainlanders and northern clans who had sought to conquer them. With most of his family dead, he had given his clan everything he had. His loyalty. His love.
He had even offered them his own life to protect them from the gods.
And in one heartbeat, his clansmen had taken the last thing on this earth he had loved.
Ceara.
His cherished little sister whom he had sworn to his mother, father, and uncle he would protect at any cost. Ceara with her golden hair and laughing amber eyes. So young. So kind and giving.
To satisfy one man’s selfish ambition, his clan had slain her before his eyes while he lay tied down, unable to stop them.
She’d died calling out for him to help her.
Her horrified screams still rang in his ears.